Doughnuts
by Blackbird in the Rain
Summary: Dick buys doughnuts while he should be on patrol. Damian is disapproving, as usual. One-shot centred around the male Robins.


**So this is one of my first fics for these characters. Sorry if they're a bit out of character, I'm still trying to get the hang of it... Please read and review!**

"I brought doughnuts." Nightwing said, holding up the clear plastic box in way of a peace offering.

Tim smiled and reached out his hand for the box,

"I bet you buy doughnuts for all the Robins." He smirked, but opened it anyway. Dick smiled and delicately slumped beside Tim on the edge of the roof, taking one of the sugary rings and licking the sprinkles off the top with the end of his tongue.

"Can you imagine Damian if I did?"

"Unfortunately."

"I don't think assassins eat doughnuts."

"What about ten-year-old boys?"

"You'd have to take it up with Damian. I haven't a clue." Tim shrugged, ripping of a piece of the doughnut with a venom worthy of Red Hood.

"Life got you down?" Dick asked, not looking at Tim. Red Robin didn't speak for a moment, choosing instead to choke on a sprinkle and sit for several moments, coughing. Dick smiled slightly, his eyes lighting up behind his black mask.

"What?" Tim snapped, kicking Dick on the leg. "Don't you have a patrol to be on or something?"

"Damian has it. And I could ask you the same."

"That kid has issues. He's taking your patrol for you now?"

"Not as such…" Nighwing said, pausing to sink his teeth into the sugary icing and dough, then continuing to talk with his mouth full. "He was out, and I figured he'd cover all my areas too." He mumbled through a mouth of doughnut. "There can't be any major crime every night in Gotham."

"It _is _Gotham." Tim reminded him, and Dick sighed. Silence stretched. Tim yawned.

"You should go to bed. I'll take your patrol tonight, since I don't have my own."  
"I'm fine, Nightwing. If Damian can do it, I'm not going to bow out."

"Damian is a kid apart though, isn't he?"  
"He's still a kid. And I've been doing this years."

"Not with college in the day and finals coming up. Shouldn't you be working or something?"

"Hey, I'll be fine. Everyone else manages it, don't they? Bats runs Wayne Enterprises by day, doesn't he? I can get through some stinking college finals, can't I?" Again the younger Red Robin attacked his doughnut.

"Sure. I just thought-"

"Well don't. It never did you much good."

"Well touché. Don't talk about it then. I'll just take the doughnuts back, shall I?" There was silence for a while, broken by the occasional tooting of a car horn or the screech of a siren, breaking the otherwise quiet Gotham night. From their perch on top of one of the taller of the buildings in the city, the two boys could see Wayne enterprises, owned by the one man who'd had the biggest hand in shaping the lives of the two vigilantes. It was here that both their gazes were inevitably drawn, the electric letters spelling out the family name and lighting up the sky in a more impressive display than any of the other skyscrapers could offer. The silence stretched out between the two boys, swirling on the cold night air.

"_Doughnuts?" _The voice hissed from behind them, making the two former Robins jump as the ten-year-old Wayne boy appeared behind them, materialising out of the darkness.

"Damian!" Dick smiled, offering the box to him. With a disapproving '_tt' _Damian ignored them, much to the amusement of the older boys.

"What brings you here?" Tim asked, stretching out his legs as if he had been just about to get up. Dick smiled wider, and then looked to Damian. "This is no place for Baby Robins, you know." Damian scowled, crossing his arms.

"Does my father know you're not on patrol?" He asked. Dick shrugged.

"Probably not. I doubt he much cares, either." Damian's frown furrowed deeper into his brow, and his stance became defensive.

"Three muggings and an attempted break in." He snapped, looking hard at both of them, "and you're here, eating _doughnuts." _

"Couldn't you handle them, then, Baby Bird? Need some help?" Damian threw his fist towards Red Robin, who smartly sidestepped and held up his arms in a shrugged surrender, smiling into the night.

"You didn't injure them too much, did you?" Dick asked, concerned, and Damian looked hurt.

"No more than they deserved." He shrugged. "That's not the point. You're supposed to be on patrol." Tim yawned.

"Actually, I'm supposed to be revising for finals."

"Hah! So you admit it?" Nightwing crowed, and Tim scowled.

"Shut it, Grayson."  
"Yes, Grayson, shut it."

"Ha!"

"Just put a doughnut in it." Tim snapped, then smiled slightly, "and you, Damian. Eat one." Damian opened his mouth to protest, but Dick dragged him forwards.

"Come on. You can't actually be a Robin unless you eat doughnuts." Damian looked at them thoughtfully, then at the box.

"Does Todd eat doughnuts?" He asked, and Tim looked at Dick.

"Definitely." Dick lied, not breaking for a moment. "All the time." He frowned slightly and, as an afterthought added, "so does Bruce." Damian rolled his eyes.

"Alright then. Prove it. If you can get Red Hood to eat a doughnut, I'll eat one."

"We're going to need more doughnuts then." Red Robin sighed, prodding the last one.

"You get Jason and I'll pay?" Dick asked, and Tim shook his head.

"Not a chance in hell. I'd rather meet the Joker than Jason on a bad night." Dick sighed. It was either no Jason and no Damian or Jason and Damian. Neither option would be easy. Making a decision he reached inside his utility belt and pulled out some change.

"Get… two boxes. And, yeah, whatever you like." Tim raised his eyebrows.

"Isn't two a bit… optimistic?" Shrugging, Nightwing stepped off the roof with a flourish. Tim looked down at the change in his hand.

"Don't move a muscle." He told Damian, before leaping up, breaking into a run, and bounding from the rooftop. Damian, content- for once –to do as he was told, picked up the last doughnut from the packet and bit into it thoughtfully.

Closing his eyes he sat in wait for his 'brothers', doughnut in hand, the crumbs falling gently into his lap.

Nightwing dropped silently to the ground in the alleyway, taking practiced, almost graceful glances about him. Behind him in the shadows emerged a figure, red helmet over his face and a gun clamped in one hand.

"Nightwing."

"Jay." Dick turned,

"What brings you to this part of town then, Little Bat?" Jason's voice sneered, although it was hard to see what his face was doing beneath the concealing hood.

"A request." Dick said, turning round and holding his hands in the air in a gesture of peace. "I… I need your help with something… Damian…"

"Baby Bird had his wings clipped?" Jason's voice was still sneering. "Or perhaps." He cocked his head to one side, "he needs his wings clipping." The gun in Red Hood's hand suddenly seemed more like a menacing statement than a form of protection it might have been just moments before. Dick's eyes widened momentarily before narrowing to a glare.

"I need you to put the gun down for an hour," Dick said, before rushing on, unsure how the next part would come out. "and come eat doughnuts with us."  
"Is that some sort of code I should know?"  
"No. I meant what I said."  
"Ok. Night, Grayson." Red Hood turned to melt back into the shadows, but was cut off suddenly by a quivering _snack _as one of Nightwing's Wing-Dings passed inches from his face and dug it's way into the wall.

"Come along and look at least slightly happy or I'll tell Batman about last week." Jason stopped for moment, as if slightly taken aback, but it was just for a second and Dick was sure he'd imagined it.  
Hoped he hadn't.

But sure he had.

"Tell him then. I don't care."

"Really? Because I distinctly remember-" Dick was cut off by a snarl and the but of Jason's gun was pressed into his face.

"You gave your word. And I already said I don't care. They all deserved it." But he sounded less sure now. Dick shrugged.

"I lie well. Anyway, come with me and I wont have to break my word." Dick could have sworn that he could _feel _Jason glaring from behind his hood.

"Turn around and _move. _I'll follow." Dick turned, allowing himself a small smile before his face straightened again.

Tim had better have got those doughnuts.

The only sign of Red Robin's presence on the roof was a small, barely audible clatter and a darkening of the shadows.

"Grayson hasn't returned. Do you think he's ok?" Damian said, not turning round. Tim shrugged, although the gesture was lost to the younger boy's back.

"He's Nightwing. I'm sure he'll be fine. Really. It's Jason." But he didn't sound so sure. It may only be Jason but it was also Red Hood.

Tim plonked his bag down on the roof, his backside following it. Damian watched it, as if he could see through the bag and examine the doughnuts within.

It took ten minutes for Nightwing to return with a somewhat sour looking Red Hood, his previously hidden face now exposed as he pulled off his hood. Damian nodded to him, and Tim managed a smile. Behind Jason, Dick grinned. Slowly, warily, they sat, more like rabbits sitting among wolves than the brothers they were supposed to be.

Suspiciously, Jason picked up the packet of doughnuts and picked out a chocolate one, looking – glaring – at Dick to make sure he was doing nothing more than he had to. Dick nodded slightly, smiling, and his hand reached out to pick up the other box and open it.

As the sun began to rise slowly over the never sleeping city of Gotham, four Bat-boys sat on the edge of the roof overlooking Wayne Enterprises, one of the tallest, most influential buildings in the city.


End file.
